


oh, you’re in my veins (and i cannot get you out)

by ridakulous



Category: Glee
Genre: Blood, F/F, F/M, Guns, War, more War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridakulous/pseuds/ridakulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World War II AU, where women were drafted. I apologize now for any inaccuracies. I’m afraid I wasn’t alive for WWII and haven’t particularly studied the day-to-day war aspects of it. Anything false is my fault and anything unrealistic I apologize for. Rachel POV.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you doing, Private,” she hisses out through clenched teeth, eyes darting around. None of the men seem to still be awake, but Quinn doesn’t seem to care, “This is a war zone ladies, are you trying to get us killed?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, you’re in my veins (and i cannot get you out)

The force of the explosion knocks PFC Rachel Berry clear off of her feet. The heavy SCR on her back, which feels like it’s nearly as tall as she is, has done nothing to help her balance the entire day. Add in the mortars that send the ground rumbling under them and Rachel’s stuck reeling forward, trying her best to not get crushed under the weight of the radio. She’s got just enough of her wit to cling onto her M1 as her Sarge turns to bark out orders. He’s a sloppy man, with the chin strap of his standard issue helmet unbuckled and his M7 unloaded because he hates the extra weight in his arms, but Sergeant Tanaka is her NCO and even if Rachel hates the man, seeing him cleaved not-so-neatly in two isn’t at the top of her list of things to do today.

She had tried to warn the man, numerous times with her extensive vocabulary, that night that camping next to the hill was bad news. They have little to no cover and the tiny German village a klick and a half north is trouble. But the Sarge was tired and out here, in the middle of hills and valleys and endless terrain that’s started to look less and less like home, his word is law. And going up against Tanaka meant the abrasive man would lash out. Which meant that her company would find another reason to hate her, aside from being female.

The second draft had come as a surprise to everyone. The newspapers and radios had boasted of amazing statistics, conquered land and victories, so why would they need more people? Even more surprising was the call to arms for women, the very same gender excluded so harshly from the powerful, male-orientated society. But a warm body with a gun is a hell of a lot better than no body.

Or at least, that’s what was yelled enthusiastically by Staff Sergeant Schuester at the Lima recruitment center and Rachel had gotten caught up in the hype like every other woman who volunteered to go overseas. The army had offered her a higher rank than the girls who were dillydallying around about the draft, and Rachel was so proud that day she came home in her pressed dress khakis. She’s a tiny girl, not one with much authority, but the uniform demanded it, from everyone. From Mr. St. James who ran the local school to Mr. Figgins who tailored her tiny skirts, everyone was in awe of Rachel, and she loved the attention.

But then they packed her away into a small chopper filled with sweaty men covered in blood and worse; men who obviously hadn’t showered in weeks and looked at Rachel like she was a very well seasoned prime rib. It’s the first time Rachel second-guessed her decision, but it’s a bit too late to turn back. And now she’s here, with her heart beating so loudly in her throat she can’t hear anything else.

The radio is heavy, but it doesn’t weigh enough to keep her pinned to the ground like the fear swimming in her stomach does. The worst is that she can taste Tanaka’s blood, which had splattered over her face when the shrapnel cut straight through his gut and ripped off one of his legs. Rachel lays there, terrified and staring into the lifeless eyes of her Sarge, praying. It isn’t out loud and none of it really makes sense, but it’s the smallest amount of salvation when she tries to disappear into her own head. She wants to shut her eyes, to pretend like she’s back at home with her Daddy and Uncle playing a game of Parcheesi. Daddy Hiram would laugh and his eyes would crinkle at their edges and Uncle Leroy would smile at him like he was brighter than the sun.

But all she has are Sergeant Tanaka’s brown eyes, pinning her down with their gaze. They’re wide and bulging, and his mouth is open, lips forever in a hoarse cry of pain. Later, she would find out it was shock at seeing her first death and get teased by Puckerman and Evans about how green and soft she was. It’ll haunt her dreams for five decades after the war. But it takes a hand, rough on her arm, yanking her to her feet and back to reality for Rachel to snap out of the haze.

It’s another woman, which is surprising enough out here in the rural countryside. Even more shocking in the Corporal wings pinned to her shoulders, smudged in dirt and blood. Rachel has no idea who her blonde-haired rescuer is, but the woman’s yelling in her ear and dragging her off to one of their incomplete bunkers. The German’s hadn’t even bothered to wait for them to get comfortable, dropping the artillery before they had finished shoveling out their foxholes. Rachel watches as she loads up her rifle with a single fluid motion, noticing that it’s an older make with a sizable scope on top of it.

Once she realizes that Rachel isn’t comatose or concussed her shoulders go stiff and she’s eying her sights. A half a second later she’s squeezing the trigger, a small smirk on her face, and Rachel’s Berry knows she’s going to be the death of her. Hopefully not literally.

~~

Her name is CPL Quinn Fabray, and she’s one of the best damn marksmen, markswoman, that the 94th Infantry has ever seen. She carries around an M1903 Springfield like it’s an extension of her body and cleans it daily, ritually. Her eyes are normally hazel, but they go straight green when she’s in combat, the tiny flecks overpowering the cold brown when her adrenaline’s pumping. She wears a size seven and a half boot, one that she’s offered to shove up Puckerman’s ass after he attempted to hit on her. Rachel Berry is eighty-five point three percent sure she’s in love with her.

Corporal Fabray takes over what’s left of their squad. They rally around Private Hudson’s body and Rachel knows better than to tear up in front of the men as they wrap him up in his own parka. Finn Hudson wasn’t the smartest boy out there, but he was sweet and gentle, and had a soft spot for Rachel that’s mirrored in her own heart. Now he’s dead, wrapped up in dirt and grime and his standard issue fatigues and Rachel knows it could have just as easily been her.

She feels a pair of eyes drilling into her and she turns, locking gazes with Corporal Fabray. Her hazel eyes cut harshly, but they aren’t judging. She can feel the woman sizing her up as they place Finn into the wooden casket and Rachel’s chin juts out stubbornly as she refuses to break eye contact. CPL Fabray nods, once, and turns, barking out the about-face order in her tremulous alto voice and Rachel can’t help it if her feet stutter against the ground the way her heart does in her chest.

~~

They share a foxhole with PFC Tina Cohen-Chang because it makes sense. The only females in their wounded company, Rachel is a bit worried at how fixated Tina seems over her old Ka-Bar, running her fingers across the sharpened steel without drawing blood. Puckerman, who for some reason is her best friend in the company, wouldn’t stop talking about the PFC and how ‘badass she was gutting Nazi bastards’ out there with him. It caused more than one amused smile in his direction over rations, and Puck and Evans nearly got into a wrestling match when Abrams called him pussy whipped and Sam laughed.

Tina’s a quiet girl and for someone who spent most of her civilian life talking, Rachel can appreciate it. It’s a quarter after midnight when Tina starts humming, softly, and Rachel’s eyes light up when she realizes it’s a familiar French show tune. Her impeccable singing voice is low and emotional, and Tina seems unfazed when she joins in. There’s a growl halfway through their second song and Rachel’s eyes snap up, expecting the worst as hers hands reach for her rifle. It’s just CPL Fabray, who seems less than pleased.

“What are you doing, Private,” she hisses out through clenched teeth, eyes darting around. None of the men seem to still be awake, but Quinn doesn’t seem to care, “This is a war zone ladies, are you trying to get us killed?”

Quinn licks her lips and Rachel thinks to herself that someone shouldn’t be able to look so hot while degrading her gender and the one thing that makes her unique. The argument dies on Rachel’s lips as her mouth runs dry, and she just shakes her head and shifts so that she can get comfortable enough to sleep.

There’s enough tension in the air for the rest of the night that PFC Chang’s knife might even have a hard time cutting through it. But Tina just goes back to cleaning her Ka-Bar like nothing happened and Rachel knows If Noah was awake there would be a whipping noise echoing off the hole she’s digging herself into.

~~

Rachel could cry in relief when they make it back to camp. A week of being stuffed in close quarters with one of the most gorgeous women she’s ever seen has been trying on her patience and self-control, and Rachel may have signed up for a lot of stupid, reckless things but this was not one of them. She treats herself to a shower, wondering when clean water became a treat and how on Earth could she have ever thought enlisting was a good idea. She’s rooming with PFC Cohen-Chang and two other enlisted girls, which is a relief in itself because it means that Quinn Fabray is nowhere near her.

The first night they’re back Puckerman throws some kind of big party, and Rachel decides to stay in and catch up on much needed sleep. It doesn’t come to her, which isn’t all that odd when Ken Tanaka’s eyes are the first thing she sees when she closes her own. Tina’s in a somewhat talkative mood, for her at least, which means engaging Rachel in a question or two every ten minutes or so in between putting her rifle back together and sharpening her knife.

It’s weird, not talking about herself, but her new friend intrigues Rachel way too much for her to monopolize the conversation. Tina doesn’t talk often, and when she does her voice is proud and confident; like what little she’s saying is important and worth listening to. You wouldn’t expect it from the quiet girl, but something about her demeanor pulls Rachel in. When Tina talks it’s straight to the point, even when she’s obviously reminiscing, and it’s fascinating how opposite they really are with all of their similarities. She knows she won’t be surprised if Tina’s promoted to Corporal when CPL Fabray gets Tanaka’s job, and she’ll do a damn good job at it. Rachel absentmindedly wonders if Puck will mind.

She learns more than she ever thought she would about Tina, who was adopted by a small family in Delaware. She enjoys reading but finds the classics boring, and she’s been to three less theater productions than Rachel has. The knife was her biological grandfather’s, who Tina can vaguely remember wheeling around when she was six or seven. He was a veteran in the war, she tells Rachel offhandedly, who came back more decorated than a Christmas tree. Tina hopes to be just like the kind man with the crooked smile; Rachel can tell even if she never says it out loud.

Puck bashes his fist on the door around eleven at night, and Rachel answers it with an indignant huff. He isn’t drunk, which is a Puckerman first, and he’s demanding to see “the sexy Asian chick”. Rachel scoffs at her best friend and goes to slam the door in his face when Tina’s arm catches the door. She stares at Puck curiously, her fingers running over her knife. She throws it down on the desk and grabs Puck’s fatigues with her hand, yanking him forward and covering his mouth with a demanding kiss.

When Puck leans back to whispering something that sounds like “score”, Rachel leaves the room, cheeks flushed and awkward. Some things she doesn’t understand and others she never wants to. She isn’t sure which category this falls under, but if Rachel had to guess, it would be both.

~~

She doesn’t know where she’s wandering until she’s staring at the door of the music room, where the Army’s choir takes up residence when they’re on their Winter holiday tour. It’s empty and vacant now, in the sweltering heat of the summer, save for one person sitting at the piano. It’s a simple song, the German accent perfect and haunting. Rachel can’t place it, which startles her more than the impromptu music session she’s obviously invading on. She’s ready to back out the door when she catches a flash of blonde hair under a perfectly ironed officers hat.

Of course she would run into CPL Fabray, the one person she’s trying to avoid. In her haste to back away Rachel runs into the door, knocking her elbow on the wooden frame which draws a cuss from her lips that would make Noah proud. Quinn freezes and whips around, her eyes a storm of emotion that Rachel can’t help but get sucked into. She stands stiffly and marches over to Rachel, looking down at the smaller girl. The arrogance in her gaze, even if Quinn is her commanding officer, makes her chin jut forward stubbornly on its own accord. Rachel snaps a stiff salute which Quinn returns before staring up at her NCO defiantly.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Private?”

Rachel doesn’t have an answer that doesn’t sound petty and ridiculous, like homesickness, or being drawn to the music. Instead she just answers with a bland, “No reason in particular, ma’am.”

Her answer seems to amuse Quinn as much as it annoys her, a common theme she has going for her, and Quinn’s face is disinterested when she answers, completely contradicting the venom in her voice.

“So then you’re just ruining my free time for the fun of it, Berry?”

Quinn’s smirk is just infuriating in a way that Noah’s could never be. Her voice is husky, a different kind of rough than the drill sergeant tone she takes with the men, and it makes Rachel weak in the knees. It’s hard to believe Quinn’s insulting her with that tone, and Rachel’s scowl deepens as her anger mounts.

And boy does Rachel have a lot to be angry about. Angry for volunteering to fight in a war she doesn’t believe in, angry at how women are treated, even by other women and angry that her dreams mean nothing to anyone but herself. Rachel’s angry that she couldn’t do anything to stop Tanaka or Finn from dying, angry at how she froze up in a moment that could have been courageous, angry that she can’t stop thinking about things she has no right to be thinking.

Most of all, she’s infuriated by the cocky, aloof woman in front of her that makes her body warm and her rage boil over at the same time that’s smirking like she just knows and Rachel crumbles.

Their first kiss is entirely inappropriate and leads to Rachel pinning Quinn against the piano behind them. Quinn’s mouth is just as rough, taking and taking from Rachel until it feels like she won’t have anything left to give. But this isn’t a battle she’s willing to lose and Rachel’s fighting for dominance like her life depends on it.

Her hand unbuttons Quinn’s dress slacks and there’s no reprieve as her wrist works against the elastic of Quinn’s panties. She’s panting into Rachel’s ear, breath ragged and Rachel revels in the control, in how she can make this poised, insufferable woman fall apart with just two of her fingers. When Quinn comes it’s Rachel’s name on her lips, loud and perfectly on key, and Rachel’s own legs falter a bit at how absolutely breathtaking Quinn Fabray actually is.

She pulls her fingers out and licks them clean, something that causes Quinn to grin at her and pull her in by her lapels for a sloppy kiss. Rachel comes hard and fast, and the fact would annoy her if it wasn’t one of the best orgasms of her life. Corporal Fabray smacks her ass as she walks out of the room, her dress blues are as neat and orderly as ever. But there’s a spark in her eyes that Rachel has no idea how she’s missed before, and the smallest of grins on her face.

~~

The second time it happens is on a bed, Quinn’s bed to be exactly. Rachel’s huffy about it when Quinn drags her into a supply cabinet, and she snippy tells her that she “isn’t that kind of girl”.

Quinn laughs at that which stokes that anger burning under her skin and Rachel’s mouth opens to tell her off once and for all. But Quinn just leans in and kisses her sweetly and Rachel hates that she’s putty in the woman’s hands right after.

They walk back to Quinn’s room in silence, the shiny Sergeant paint still fresh on the door. Quinn takes her time with Rachel’s body, mapping it with her tongue and exploring it with her eyes and fingers. By the time she’s satisfied Rachel’s legs are jelly and she’s sore in places she didn’t know were possible.

They spend the rest of their night with a leftover pizza from the Cafeteria, Rachel watching Quinn’s lips move as she reads Jane Austen next to her, topless in bed. She amends herself in her mind, as her fingers sneak under the blankets and a smile quirks Quinn’s lips up. This, right here, is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. And when Quinn’s crying out for her, voice thick and passionate in her ear, it sounds like a song that was meant for her ears alone. 

~~

Tina never asks where she disappears to, and Rachel’s grateful. She’s joined Puck’s table at mess hall, sitting across from him. It works out perfectly, because whenever Puck opens his mouth to say something crude and disrespectful to Rachel Tina just shifts her gaze at him and Puckerman shuts up. Specialist Sam Evans gives him the hardest time, but Puck’s scowls and muscles are enough to keep the squad quiet, at least while he’s at the table.

They’ve set up his locker, rigged with pantyhose and tampons Rachel helped Sam smuggle out of the stock room, a sweet revenge for all of the times Puck’s pranked her. The best part is the hidden grin Rachel knows is lurking under the surface of Tina’s cool gaze, and the wink she gets when Puck turns to yell something across the hall to Abrams.

When Rachel sneaks into Quinn’s room later that night she’s already waiting for her, in the sweats and t-shirt Rachel’s become used to.

“We ship back out tomorrow,” Quinn says seriously, and it kills whatever good mood Rachel’s built up from dinner.

“Thanks for the reminder, Sergeant,” she bites out, and Quinn just raises an eyebrow at her in a way that only works for her. It sparks that deep-seated resentment that’s been growing in Rachel since before she can remember, and feeling angry and bitter is so much easier than feeling hurt. Rachel sighs, hating herself for being petty, needy, and unsure of just what the hell she’s doing by screwing her NCO. She turns her back and heads for the door, heart twisting at the soft “Rachel” that leaves Quinn’s lips.

Quinn told her once, when Rachel had her pinned down to the bed, thigh teasing in between Quinn’s legs, that Fabrays don’t beg. Rachel wonders when she gained the power to destroy the strongest woman she knows, and why she feels nothing as she walks away. The answer hits her a half an hour later, when she cries herself to sleep.

~~

Their assignment is a simple patrol, but nothing’s simple when people who don’t care who you are or why you’re here want you dead. Rachel hates patrols, even if she is paired up with Puckerman. He tries to keep the jokes rolling and the situation as light as he can, but after twenty minutes of shutting him out he he goes silent. Until he doesn’t.

“When you are you going to pull the stick out of your ass? Is this about Fabray?”

Rachel doesn’t know if she wants to cry to punch him so she does a little of both, jumping on Noah Puckerman and hitting him in the face. She hears the crack of his nose and suddenly there’s blood on her hands and she feels sick to her stomach. Puck curses and pushes his fingers to the cartilage, trying to figure out how fucked it is. She watches in shame as he has to snap it back in place, eyes watering. Puck looks her over with hard eyes and shoulders his rifle, continuing their route back to camp. No one says anything when he comes in with blood on his fatigues, and he disappears behind a set of trees. Five minutes later Tina follows, wordlessly, a damp cloth with half of her water rations soaked into it. Rachel replaces Tina’s canteen with her own, but even that doesn’t stop the disappointment in her gut as Sergeant Fabray ignores her.

~~

She’s ordered to Quinn’s room after they return to base, which happens to be at three in the morning. The patrol had caught a snag, an unexpected village not on the maps and Sergeant Fabray has ordered an impromptu surveillance mission to assess the threat level. Her beans are lukewarm and Rachel’s appetite is nonexistent so she offers them to Noah. He hesitates before taking them, shoulder checking her as she walks away and Rachel knows she doesn’t deserve him as a friend. But then again, she doesn’t deserve a lot of things thrown her way and at least the guilt gnawing in the pit of her stomach fades away slightly.

Rachel knocks twice on the door and a familiar voice tells her to come in. Quinn’s tone is curt and her shoulders are set. She’s not Quinn right now.

Sergeant Fabray gives her a damn good dressing down, one that leaves Rachel’s head drooping where it would normally be fiery and aggressive. That doesn’t stop Quinn from continuing her reprimand, cutting into Rachel with harsh words and a harsher sense of anger.

She only stops when she notices the watery look in Rachel’s eyes and Quinn sighs heavily, pulling Rachel forward in a way that’s almost nostalgia. Rachel sobs into her crisp and ironed uniform, falling apart under the fingers soothing at her back. War’s finally caught up with her and broken her, and for the first night she sleeps in Quinn’s bed, tucked under her chin, and Rachel finally feels safe.

~~

The guys in the troop talk about a curse on Tanaka’s position. Before him it had been Shannon Bieste, who sacrificed herself so that four of her men could make it to safety. And before her had been an older guy named Hummel who was tough as nails. Steel Balls Sergeant Hummel disappeared on a patrol one night, and his soldiers were convinced he was kidnapped and would never break ranks for freedom. Rachel knows it’s just her boys bullshitting, a necessity out here. Things seem so less scary when you can make jokes about them, and army jokes tend to be the crudest for a reason. That doesn’t stop it from leaving an uneasy feeling in Rachel’s stomach and when Puck makes a joke about Fabray being next she slugs him in the arm, hard, and walks away from the table.

Her feet carry her straight to Quinn’s room and it’s obvious that she was busy planning out the next day’s PT so that they wouldn’t get rusty with because of their cushy camp job. Rachel’s lips crash into Quinn’s, desperate for a reminder that she’s hear, and alive, but Quinn slows down the kiss, cupping her cheek with a calloused palm.

They wind up tangled up in each other for the rest of the night as Rachel’s ear sits right above Quinn’s heart. Quinn looks so much different here, in the privacy of Rachel’s arms with Pride and Prejudice cracked open. Rachel drinks her in, trying her hardest to memorize every nuance of her personality, every almost nonexistent freckle on her skin. The tha-thump of Quinn’s heartbeat is steady and all of the reassurance she needs right now, and the sound has her drifting off to sleep. Rachel yawns and shifts, looking up at Quinn.

“I love you,” she says seriously.

“I know,” is the reply back with a smirk as Quinn flips the pages.

“So you aren’t allowed to go anywhere.”

Quinn finally looks up from her book, an amused smile on her face.

“Is that an order, soldier?”

“Damn right it is Sergeant.”

When Rachel wakes up in Quinn’s arms, it’s easier to remember why some things are worth fighting for.


End file.
